The Assassin Games
by ilikehats2
Summary: Natasha was sent looking for Clint after he went MIA on a mission, and in the process of investigating she's forced into participating in an illegal underground fight club. Now she has to worry about Clint, escaping and surviving each of her scheduled fights with deadly trained assassins that all want one thing: to survive.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I only own my idea, though I will admit I do have the Hunger Games to thank for inspiration. I would love to own Captain America, Black widow, Clint, IronMan, Thor and Hulk. But I don't... Unfortunately. I do own the random characters that aren't cannon though! **

**I have only ever watched Agents of Shield, Guardians of the Galaxy and the cartoon version of Avengers Assemble. I get most of my senses on the characters from other fanfics. **

* * *

The sharp, rancid odor brought the assassin to her senses, a twisted expression of disgust as she does so. Blinking her eyes open, Natasha Romanoff took in her surroundings to see herself in a cell made of concrete. She had no windows, lights or a bed, the only source of light came from the door. Her door was taller than her, narrow and made of rusty reinforced steal, with a small little square opening with three really thick iron bars. The walls were covered in mildew mold and moss, and the floors were stained with old blood.

_'Where am I?' _Natasha had an unusual gap in her memory. Whenever she was knocked unconscious, she always had some sort of memory, like a fight or Barton shouting her name, _'Barton! Where's Barton?'_

It all came rushing back to Natasha; her debriefing with Director Fury, entering Slovakia and breaking into Barton's safe house. The door had been locked, the lights were busted and besides the open jar of pickles on the counter it didn't even look like Barton had been there. That's when an intruder made themselves known to her, being loud and careless to attract her attention and releasing sleeping gas when she was close enough.

_'Ok... That explains what happened. But not where I am or where Clint is. I gotta get out of here, contact Maria and-' _Natasha suddenly screamed, an electrical impulse catching her off guard. Her hands went to her throat, feeling cold hard metal clamped around it. Her eyes widened slightly, this was going to complicate things.

The next thing Natasha hears is the sound of a bolt sliding, the sign of locks being removed. Her door slid open, a large man with bold shoulders completely blocking the doorway. Squinting to readjust to the slightest shift in light, Natasha sees that the man has a build similar to Steve. He entered the room, another man of similar build slipping into place.

"Good, you're awake!" The man says with a heavy accent, reaching over and grabbing Natasha's left wrist, "We were worried you wouldn't wake up..."

Natasha tried to yank her arm back, simultaneously punching him in the jaw with her right. The low growl erupted from the mans throat as he twisted the Russians arm and kneed her sharply in the stomach. With the wind knocked out of her, Romanoff viciously headbutted the guard and punched him in the throat while he was dazed. As the man coughed for air, she shoved him into the wall, glaring at the other guard in the doorway. She took one step forward before she gripped her neck, the electrical impulse making her freeze.

"Nice try Romanoff..." The guard says as he pushed himself off the wall, flashing his fancy wrist device. It looked a lot like a high tech watch that seemed to double as a communicator and the remote to her collar. Before she had yet to fully recover, he twisted her arms painfully behind her back and twisted tight, rusty handcuffs on them, her arms crossed.

"But better than you have tried to escape," But at that, the red head smirked. No one was better than her. He roughly grabbed her shoulders and shoved her towards the front door, immediately causing her to squirm. Rule one of getting captured was to never let them take you to an unknown location.

"Relax," A breathy whisper cooly advises next to her right ear, "We're just gonna take you on a tour."

* * *

Natasha learned that the smell that woke her up coated the air outside her cell. It was sharp and unmistakable, the smell of urine making her nose crinkle. She couldn't help but worry about where she was, where Barton was and how he was fairing, and if Fury knew what happened. She wondered if the Avengers were coming for her or if Fury had a SHIELD team coming.

But she focused on her surroundings, the tile floor was a dirty white, full of cracks. The white plaster walls lost their pure glow, large chunks missing. The same steel doors that she just crossed lined the entire hallway, now and then voices traveling out from behind them. Most of the time though it had been crying, which went ignored especially by the red head. Up on the ceiling were dull, pale rectangle panels of fluorescent light. Now and then the lights would flicker, their dully glow giving a dusty sort of light. And every few intervals there was an old box tv attached to the walls, currently turned off. They opened a door at the end of the hall, shoving the Russian up them. She took a glance back before considering an escape plan, but then she remembered the collar.

_'Damn..' _

The men sent her traveling up and up, with each floor she saw different sorts of living conditions and heard different. She mostly heard either silence or crying, a few times even some screaming. What went on here? What drove people into these states? And very briefly, she thought she spotted a little splash of dirty blonde hair and heard a familiar arrogant voice, only to get disappointed and a very rough shove.

"You know..." Natasha says coyly, "I know several painful ways to kill you both with just my legs..."

"You and everyone else here sweetheart..." The man says, strangely undisturbed, "If I were you dear, I wouldn't act so smug about it."

Natasha frowns, stopping on the tenth or so level, the men pushing her through the entry way. She glanced around, staring from her spot straight ahead at the arena. It had tall barriers, that would prevent any of the contestants from climbing into the crowd filled bleachers. Screens were up, about twenty feet from the ground giving different angles from the fight below. The crowd was cheering around her, as two figures fought. One of them was male, with a bald head and dark skin. His eyes were a darker shade of brown than his skin, with several black and blue tattoos including a large snake on the crown of his head. He was holding a rusty knife, while his opponent, a smaller female with dark curly hair stumbled onto her knees. Natasha watched as the man took his knife and viciously stabbed it into the girls neck, coating his hands and weapon with her blood as she fell limp to the ground, dead.

"Welcome to the Assassin Games," The man whispered in her ear as his companion chuckled.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I only own my idea, though I will admit I do have the Hunger Games to thank for inspiration. I would love to own Captain America, Black widow, Clint, IronMan, Thor and Hulk. But I don't... Unfortunately. I do own the random characters that aren't cannon though! **

**I have only ever watched Agents of Shield, Guardians of the Galaxy and the cartoon version of Avengers Assemble. I get most of my senses on the characters from other fanfics.**

* * *

It was extremely early in the morning, 1:13 to be exact. Tony was resting rather comfortably beneath the covers, his face turned to the side with an arm loosely draped around his girlfriends waist. Pepper was curled up at his side, head nestled into his shoulder. All was swell, until his phone rang.

Tony groaned, waiting for it to just go to voicemail. Although Pepper, annoyed and upset by the disturbance, smacked a hand onto Tony's face.

"Tony... Get the damn phone..."

"No... Just let it go to voice mail.."

Tony gave a very confident smile when he heard the ringing stop, only to hear it suddenly star up again. The billionaire playboy philanthropist groaned, throwing his head back into his pillow, feeling Pepper flicking him.

"Get the damn phone."

"Let it go to voicemail... Eventually it'll stop," Tony groaned, reaching up to take her wrist with his free hand to stop her flicking.

But unfortunately, every time the call went to voicemail it started up again. It was truly getting on both Pepper and Tony's last nerves, creating the endless cycle of Pepper flicking her boyfriend and her boyfriend insisting on waiting it out.

"Mr. Stark, you have a call waiting."

"I know JARVIS," Tony sighed, forcing himself to sit up and grabbed the device. He scowled, somewhat confused, "Strange... It's not Bird boy... JARVIS Please answer it for me."

"Very Well Mr. Stark."

Tony smiled, snuggling back into bed with a confident smirk, "Problem solved."

Tony closed his eyes, only for JARVIS to interrupt his precious sleep ten seconds later, "Mr. Stark a Director Fury wishes to speak with you. He says it's important and he will personally come here if you-"

JARVIS was interrupted by Tony snatching the phone, taking over the call. He grew a devious smile, getting his second wind, "NICKY! You called!"

_"Fuck it Stark! This is serious!"_

Tony huffed, "Are you saying that our relationship isn't important?" Pepper groaned in the background, turning over to try and drown out Tony.

_"Damn it Stark, cut the crap for five minutes and atleast act like a civilized member of society." _

"Fine... I'll act like you didn't just break my heart," Tony says, hearing a long list of profanities. Pepper smacked him upside the head in an attempt to remove his goofy smile, "Ow Pepper that hurt!"

"Tony its nearly a quarter to two. Let the man say whatever the fuck he wants so we can go back to sleep."

"Fine," Tony exasperated, a bit over dramatically. He turned back to his phone, "Ok, what's up? What's so important that you had to wake me from my important beauty sleep?"

_"Barton and Romanoff are MIA, get your Avenger asses to the Helicarrier for debriefing."_

Tony froze, unsure he heard Fury correctly. Did he just say- no... There is no plausible way for Clint and Natasha to have gone missing. No plausible way at all. This was a prank. This was a prank.

"Not funny Nick."

Fury sighed over the lined, almost empathetically. But no, that's not possible, Tony is just over tired. Over tired, and yet, that sounded too authentic, _"Stark, when have I ever made a fucking joke?" _

Tony blinked, taking a long moment before responding. Fury didn't have a single bit of humor in his soul. Tony steeled himself, keeping his voice calm and serious, "I'll be right there," With that said, he hung up.

"Tony, what's wrong?" Pepper asked, fully awake due to his silence.

"I have to go Peps," Tony says getting to his feet, not even caring that he was in his sleep wear as he goes to grab the keys to a jet, "JARVIS WAKE UP BANNER! Tell him it's an emergency and I'll explain on the way!"

"Tony!" Pepper sat up, chasing after him and trying to make him look at her, "Tony what's going on?"

Tony grabbed her arms gently, kissing her on the forehead, "Go back to bed, I'm needed for a debrief."

"Another Avenger mission?"

Tony kissed her, this time on the lips before answering, "I don't know, but I have to go."

Pepper stood there, watching Tony disappear from the bedroom before shouting after him, "Tony what's going on?"

"BARTON AND ROMANOFF, I'LL CALL YOU ONCE I KNOW!" Tony shouts, voice echoing off the walls.

* * *

Steve was sleeping peacefully, his face pressed into his soft pillow. Steve Rogers, bless his Amercian pure soul, rarely got some well deserved rest. Being thawed out of ice did not change the fact that he sometimes got nightmares. Of Bucky, of soldiers, of Hydra and even his team mates dying like Coulson. But tonight was different, tonight he had a dreamless sleep, and he was loving it.

Loving it until Tony was banging on his door.

"ROGERS GET YOUR AMERICA LOVING ASS OUT OF BED WE NEED TO GO!"

"Tony! We've been over this! Buying every magazine in New York because it has a scandalize photo of you is not a valid emergency that deserves me to get out of bed at two in the morning!"

"THAT WAS ONE TIME!" Tony shouts through the door, "STEVE THIS IS IMPORTANT WE NEED TO GO TO THE HELICARRIER! ITS CLINT AND 'TASHA!"

Steve was at the door, in his American Flag boxers and Dodgers t-shirt the moment Tony uttered the words.

"You should have started with that. What's wrong?"

"I don't know, they're MIA or something. Fury needs us for debriefing now!" Tony grabbed Steve's arm, dragging him to where the jet was waiting.

Steve should have known, he should have known that it was too good to be true. He should have known a peaceful, dreamless nights was too good to be true. He just had to hope Natasha and Clint didn't end up in his nightmares either.

* * *

**To be honest, the Avengers except Clint and 'Tasha won't be making big appearances for a while. So... I had to atleast show you their panic. I mean, when both assassins are MIA, isn't that a big concern? I just had to show you this... Especially with Tony and Pepper.**

**Thank you for the Reviews. However, those two men, they're very naughty. Natasha isn't escaping. **


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I only own my idea, though I will admit I do have the Hunger Games to thank for inspiration. I would love to own Captain America, Black widow, Clint, IronMan, Thor and Hulk. But I don't... Unfortunately. I do own the random characters that aren't cannon though! **

**I have only ever watched Agents of Shield, Guardians of the Galaxy and the cartoon version of Avengers Assemble. I get most of my senses on the characters from other fanfics.**

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, Thor slowly stepped through the threshold and into the meeting room. The god, despite being dressed for battle, was disheveled. His hair was wild, his armor crooked, and his cape was on sideways. Tony, if he wasn't drowning down his twelfth cup of coffee would find it hilarious.

"My friends! Any word on the Archer Barton and the Lady Widow?"

"No," Bruce sighed, rubbing his temples, "We've been here for fifteen minutes and Tony is on his twelfth cup of coffee."

"Coffee?"

"If your suggesting I have a coffee problem, I can assure you I don't! You do!" Tony snapped, leg bouncing wildly. Thor took the moment to fully examine his disheveled companions. Bruce was in a plain white shirt and jeans, his hair sticking up all over the place. Tony was wearing dark grey sweats and a white T-shirt. Thor could see the arch reactor faintly glowing underneath, looking at Steve.

"Captain?" Thor spoke up, "Do you not know your in your under garments?"

At that said, Steve momentarily turned red with embarrassment. But it was soon interrupted by Tony slamming his coffee mug in the table loudly.

"Where the hell is Fury? He tells us to get our asses here but he doesn't follow his own order! It's ridiculous!"

"Yes where is the Angry Man?" Thor agrees.

"Guys, calm down. I'm sure that Fury will be here as soon as he can. With what's going on-" Steve was interrupted by Fury entering the room.

"About time!" Tony snapped, "Where have you been?"

Fury just glared at him, "How much coffee did you drink?"

"I don't know, not much. Not much just Twelve cups, not much. Why you asking?"

Fury scowled, glancing at them all before he took a seat at the table. He opened the folder in his hands, eye glaring at a spot, which spot they weren't sure. And then, Maria Hill entered, closing the door behind her and standing quietly at Fury's side. Since Coulson passed, Maria has become their new handler. After scaring off ten of them, Fury just went with his deputy director. Apparently his trouble makers more or less respected her and took her advice, though he suspected it had something to do with her friendship with their favorite late handler.

"What's going in Fury?" Steve finally broke the silence.

"Yes what news is there of the Lady Widow and Archer Barton?"

Fury slid the folder across the table to them before answering, "As you all know three weeks ago Agent Barton was sent on a solo mission to infiltrate a party, get close to his targets daughter and subsequently sabotage him before his personal researchers had a chance to build a dangerous photon laser for an unknown customer. From what we have recovered from our contact the photon laser is suppose to be small, the size of a pen actually-" At that, Banner rolled his eyes while Stark scoffed.

"After a week into the mission, Agent Barton stopped checking in. We didn't think it was a concern, since Natasha and Clint were known to do it when they were deep under cover," Maria starts, eyes darting over each Avenger, "Except- Clint was scheduled to meet with our contact, it was crucial to the mission that they got together so Clint could get an update on the lasers progress. We got a call three days ago from him saying that Clint didn't show up. We couldn't contact him."

"So we sent in Nat," Maria says after a pause, letting that all sink in before even bringing up the Black Widow, "We don't know how long Clint's been MIA, in the off chance that he's gone rouge, Natasha would be able to bring him or talk sense into him. Atleast, she had the best chances. The rules were made strictly clear to her, that if she didn't check in when scheduled we would take her off the mission. Logs show that she had just entered the safe house Barton was assigned at 11:34, not a few minutes later the comms go wonky, and the only things our team has been able to decipher is a thud, Natasha's coughing and then...the comms were destroyed. We're trying to recover traces saved from the earpiece to be sent in the logs after it clears up but the comma were destroyed before all of it could be transfered."

"How does that work? The comms," Steve asked.

"Well," Tony gave a perverted smile but Banner immediately jumped in before Tony could say one word, "Despite the comms being scrambled and no one able to communicate back to one another, whatever Natasha says or sound frequency reaches her ear piece is saved until they recover or back online. Once they're back on line, they wirelessly send over all saved data to be shifted through later. As I suspect, because of the unknown scramble, your agents were trying to fix it and then tried to recover lost information, correct?"

"Exactly, when the comms got scrambled we immediately sent someone to check on Natasha only to find her destroyed earpiece on the floor. The safe house is no longer secure, and currently my team is trying to retrieve everything saved and figure out what happened."

"You don't have like cameras set up there?"

"No.. we didn't want to risk the cameras being discovered."

"This can't be a coincidence," Steve says, "There's got to be a reason why Natasha and Clint both go missing. Any leads?"

"Unfortunately no, we are looking into the slight possibility that Agent Barton's cover was blown and they were expecting Agent Romanoff," Fury says.

Steve stood causing Maria to glance away with a red face, "What are your orders?"

"And it better not be to stay out of it!" Tony shouted in interruption.

Fury's scowl got deeper, his lips pressed into thin, tight lines, "No. I want you on this mission. But I don't want this getting out, this all stays between us."

"And Pepper!" Tony adds.

"_Yes_," Fury says tightly, losing his patience with the caffeinated billionaire, "We mustn't forget about Miss Potts."

* * *

**Thank you all for the reviews, follows and favorites. I am sorry, this will be the last chapter we see the Avengers in for a while. I want and need to focus more on Romanoff and Barton. **

**Unfortunately, you must all wait a while longer before Clint shows up. Now, please be in mind that I don't even have a full solid theory of what every chapter will consist of. I get inspired by every new chapter, every new story I read. Not just books but fanfics, I'm not trying to steal but when I get inspired by something I go with it. Im struggling between a decision between Widow and Hawk-Eye (I'm not telling you for what sillies!) **


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I only own my idea, though I will admit I do have the Hunger Games to thank for inspiration. I would love to own Captain America, Black widow, Clint, IronMan, Thor and Hulk. But I don't... Unfortunately. I do own the random characters that aren't cannon though! **

**I have only ever watched Agents of Shield, Guardians of the Galaxy and the cartoon version of Avengers Assemble. I get most of my senses on the characters from other fanfics.**

* * *

The door creaking was what attracted her attention. Natasha was sitting in the very center of her cell, listening to everything around her. She listened intently to the footsteps around her, the voices of the guards, the protests from the prisoners and once or twice a scream in the dead of night. She listened to the fights on the tv but never moved to actually watch them, refusing to take comfort or entertainment from the death of others.

For the past five days, Natasha's door was not opened unless she was being brought something. It was opened once a day and even then the guards would avoid it when they could, slipping her bad fruit and spoiled milk through the bars. After her little tour, she tried to escape on her own the moment they opened her door again. She gave one guy a nasty punch to the jaw before the shock collar stopped her and they tossed her back in.

She decided immediately to not try that again, but instead plan it out, wait until she could make a successful attempt or SHIELD came for her. Of course, the Black Widow didn't wish for her reputation to be destroyed and wanted to escape on her own.

So, when her door opened and the man stood with no food, she was a bit skeptical and angry. She glanced up, seeing a man with a muscular but lean built blocking her only exit. He had dark skin, and she briefly thought it was Fury but realized that this man had two eyes. She got to her feet cautiously as he stepped into the room, glancing to the side.

A look of disgust crossed his features, "Disgusting..." His eyes lingered on a corner, where the scent was strongest but Natasha gave no hint of being bothered by his words.

The guard reached forward, roughly grabbing her arm as she pulled back. She gave him a roundhouse kick to the head, watching him fall into the wall and used his moment of disorientation to run out the door and lock him in. However, just as she entered the hall way, hard muscular arms wrapped around her waist to restrain her.

Immediately, Romanoff leaned back, forcing the guard that held her to support her. She slammed the back of her head into his face while simultaneously kicking at a third guard with her legs. She suddenly had her thighs wrapped around his throat, prepared to snap his neck when she grit her teeth to hold back her pain. Her back arched slightly at the pain of the shock collar and she lost her grip on the mans neck, letting him slide out and get away from her.

"You bitch..." The first guard barked, wiping away the blood that fell from the side of his head, "I hope you die here!"

Romanoff was forced to stand, her arms painfully tied behind her back like before. She was gripped tightly by two of the three guards, they held her upper arms while the man who was mistaken as Fury pointed a gun to the back of her head.

"You try anything and I'll-"

"We don't have time for this," The man on her right interrupted. There was a grunt behind her, a clear sign that the one holding the gun wasn't happy to be interrupted.

* * *

They took a different route, instead of taking the stairs like she did on her first day they went down halls and through random doors. Natasha didn't like this now, because despite her efforts to memorize every turn and every door, she had no idea where the exit would be.

Pushing her through one final door, a very thick door with an electronic lock. Natasha watched them slide a key card in, open the door and roughly shove her inside. She blinked for a moment looking around to find that they had slipped off her arm restraints during the push.

Shaking out her wrists, Natasha examined the new room. Three stone walls surrounded her, and behind her were ceiling to floor metal bars. Dim light came out from them, but she could make out figures in the dark, talking in not so quiet whispers, making bets.

In one moment, Natasha recoiled at the sudden intense lighting that filtered through her bars. She glared, blinking as her eyes adjusted, while a voice boomed over head.

_"IN TONIGHTS KNOCK OUT MATCH WE BRING TO YOU, ONE NEW COMER TO THE ASSASSIN GAMES! SILVERTOOTH!" _

Natasha heard faint cheering but mostly boos, a permanent scowl plastered on her face. Who was SilverTooth? And why did the crowd hate him?

_"And The Black Widow!"_

At the announcement of her name, the bars rose upward and disappeared into the ceiling with the crowd cheering ecstatic. Natasha blinked at the opening, her hand gently touching her shock collar before deciding it wasn't worth the shock to stand there. She entered the arena, glancing at her opponent.

He was a rather short man, his forehead barely reached her shoulder. He had tan skin, causing Natasha to believe he was Puerto Rican in origin, with a rather big nose and shaggy light brown hair. It covered his eyebrows, stopping just above his dark brown eyes. Natasha stared at him with a neutral face, while he smiled and flashed a large silver front tooth.

_'That explains that...' _She quietly thinks looking at the dead center of the floor. A small circle had parted way, while another cylinder rose to fill it carrying weapons. Natasha saw daggers of all sizes and in all sorts of different care. She saw some so rusty they were not silver but a brownish orange and others so new they reflected the night lights.

_"THE RULES OF THE GAME ARE SIMPLE! THERE ARE NONE! First person to fall unconscious is the pathetic loser! NOW FIGHT LOSERS FIGHT!" _

Natasha didn't move, settling to name the mysterious announcer Joker, because he sounded hysterical and greatly amused by this. Neither SilverTooth or Natasha mused, she was examining her opponent. He had a very lean and Boney body, suggesting youth but his face really spoke his age. He was maybe ten years older than her, and had on the same unfashionable electrical collar. He was wearing a beige jump suit, something that reminded her of a janitor. Finally, just as the crowd began to boo, both were harshly electrocuted, with the speakers yelling over them through a heavy field of static to fight.

The moment that it subsided, Natasha eyed her opponent to see him running towards the weapon pile. There was nothing there or true use, Natasha saw no gun or her Widow Bite's and the knifes were either too new or too old for her preference. As SilverTooth lunged for the pile, securing a knife, Natasha took a stance.

SilverTooth held a sharp dagger in his hand before lunging at the Black Widow. She stood her ground catching his clumsy wrist before he could stab her shoulder and snatched his knife. SilverTooth stared at her, not with arrogance or confidence, but with fear. He looked so scared, it caught her off guard. Her grip on his wrist slipped because of this, his hand re stealing the knife. He slashed against at her, aiming for her face. However, Natasha moved, a moment too slow causing a long red line to appear on her arm, ripped through the fabric of her suit. She hissed, not because of the pain but for the suit. She really liked this suit, mostly because it was all she had to wear. Angrily, she kneed him in the stomach and grabbed his right arm as he recoiled. She twisted it, feeling the sick little pop that signaled she had dislocated his shoulder before flipping him, the knife clattering to the ground.

The moment SilverTooth was on his back, his legs forcefully collided into her thighs. She lost her balance, falling on her butt like a child. She watched him get to his feet, reaching for his knife. She got up in a crouch before lunging at him, sending him colliding with the cement on his bad shoulder. He yelled out in pain, blinding punching her in the face. Natasha ignored the crackling pain in her nose and the warm trickle of blood but instead punched his straight in the jaw.

SilverTooth cried out in pain again, throwing Natasha off him and rolling so he was on top of her. He goes to punch her in the face but Natasha had it in her own. She started to bend it backwards, listening to the sharp crack that signified a broken wrist, before jabbing at his throat. SilverTooth stumbled away from her, taken off guard and giving her the time needed to get to her feet. As he glanced back up at her, he receives a round house kick to the ribs, sending him to his knees.

Natasha stood over him, circling him quietly. She felt like this was unfair, she was truly a better fighter than him. She was one of the best if not _the_ best. She was an Avenger, and what was he? He was just another victim like she was.

"Please..." SilverTooth looked up at Natasha, his voice a soft whisper. She was caught off guard but didn't let it show, "Please kill me Miss Romanoff. Please..."

Natasha stared at him, as he gave her a pleading look. He looked so desperate and pathetic, it made her sick. It made this small part of her loathe him for it, loathe him for his weakness. But then she reminded herself, that she took no pride in killing someone. She took no pride in killing someone who had not yet been proven to deserve it. She was a SHIELD agent and Avenger, she killed the bad guys, and this man before her was as much a victim as she was. She couldn't kill him.

The crowd was silent in anticipation, watching the two figures quietly. Natasha Romanoff seemed to circle him like a predator and then, she brought her leg up from behind him. She slammed it into his head, sending him into the floor with the force. The crowd heard the reverberating sound of his head hitting the ground, saw in the screen the man immediately black out. And then, a roar over came the crowd, everyone cheering for Natasha Romanoff.

But she acted like she didn't hear it, standing there quietly as guards came towards her and her failed opponent.

* * *

**Thank you all for the reviews again.**

** However due to one review that I had to get rid of, I need to make this clear. The two men from the first chapter have no significance. It hurt me deeply that while Chapter Three had nothing directly to do with the Assassin Games they chose to focus on something from currently three or four chapters ago. I'm sorry, but it was irrelevant and I felt very hurt that people chose to focus on two men, give them names and not at all make a comment on the main characters. It's not fair to me especially when that puts me in a position to give these random people identities when I don't want them to have that. They're unimportant. I don't want it to happen again, I am not giving a name but I also don't want them to apologize and let others know who they are. I hate to do this message, but that review seriously bothered and upset me. **

**Long Chapter! Sorry about that. But I hope you enjoy this fight. Natasha's first fight.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I only own my idea, though I will admit I do have the Hunger Games to thank for inspiration. I would love to own Captain America, Black widow, Clint, IronMan, Thor and Hulk. But I don't... Unfortunately. I do own the random characters that aren't cannon though! **

**I have only ever watched Agents of Shield, Guardians of the Galaxy and the cartoon version of Avengers Assemble. I get most of my senses on the characters from other fanfics.**

* * *

Staring down at the grey, metal tray, the Russian held a stoic, expressionless attitude. It was only last night that she had won her first match in the Assassins club, and the Black Widow was already being avoided. Her scheduled breakfast, that with a small group of fellow prisoners included her being a lone wolf, an outsider and oddity.

_'Good...' _A nagging feeling creeped up, _'I prefer being a lone wolf.' _

Natasha was roughly propped between the shoulder blades and glanced behind her at the guard, "Go sit your ass down somewhere and quit holding up the line."

Natasha merely glared, scanning around for an empty seat. The metal tables and chairs were bolted to the floor, and filling with several different people in yellow, lime green, and orange jumpsuits. Most of the seats were filling, with people Natasha didn't recognize at all. Fortunately though, she spotted a seat just under the vents, and calmly walked over to them.

Just as she placed her tray down however, Natasha noticed someone else take a seat across from her. The red head blinked, staring at the girl across from her. She was rather short in height, with a skinny and bony frame. But what surprised Natasha the most was the girls expression, she was only around eleven or twelve years old, the youth still in her face. But the innocence was gone, leaving a serious expression constantly lingering behind the girls brown eyes.

Natasha focused more on her food, preferring to not know why a child so young was here. It was none of her business and she was not here to make friends in the slightest. So she spun her spoon around in the grey mush they dared to claim oatmeal, preparing herself to stomach what would be nothing but utter crap. The girl stared at her, her lime green jumpsuit hanging slightly off of her body, a clear sign it was not small enough for her.

Natasha sighed, annoyed, "What are you staring at?"

"You smell..." The girl says like that was the worlds only answer, and that it was suppose to make her even a tiny bit better than the Russian.

Natasha scoffed, almost amused that this child was to talk, "Really? Well you would too if you haven't showered in five days, six if they leave me to sit in my own dirt all day. Suck it up because you don't know the definition of smelly."

"You sound confident..." She says the girl leaning over the table and taking in Natasha's yellow jump suit. Natasha had protested to wearing it, preferring to wear the black suit she always wore until it had fallen off and left her in her underwear. It wasn't until they shocked her a few times and forcibly dressed her that she ended up in it.

"But I guess you should expect that from the Black Widow. How'd you end up here?" The girl asked, looking at Natasha with a true curious look.

"That's none of your concern," Natasha says, focusing on eating her food. However the girl leaned forward and looked at Natasha, studying her. It aggravated the red head, causing her to slam her spoon down.

"What?"

"Nothing..." The girl says, "You're definitely gonna move through the ranks easily!"

Natasha raised an eyebrow, her face not portraying her confusion, "Excuse me?"

"The color you wear, well...it defines a lot of things, that you've been here for a long time, that your gonna be ruthless... And that your dangerous," The girl explains, "We're two of the lowest levels, we're just gonna get a lot of knock out matches. The higher levels get most of the kills."

Natasha cocked her head, suddenly interested, "And what does beige mean?" The fight last night flickered in her mind.

The girl looked at Natasha, "Don't worry about SilverTooth," She starts, "You know how you came here and they didn't make you change. Every new person goes through a trial. if they win, they're deemed as part of the games. If they fail, they get three chances. If they lose three times they have to wear beige. Then they get one more chance, if they lose, they're sent to die."

"Die?" Natasha blinked, "Why?"

"I don't know really. It happens, sometimes they go easy on the Red and Blues and have them do it. Easy way to get dinner for them, sometimes they make a public display out of it. But as long as it entertains the crowds no one cares."

Natasha scowled, a tight knot forming in her stomach. Did by some off chance Barton die here?

_'No, stop that Natasha. Barton is a pain in the ass but he doesn't go down easily.' _Natasha blinked seeing a hand wave in front of her face._  
_

"What now?" Natasha asked getting slightly annoyed again. Only, she was met with a hand held out across the table.

"I'm Six," She says, the girls identity given to her. Natasha scowled, turning back to her oatmeal. Six sighed, "Your just like that blonde that came here two weeks ago. What was his name? Falcon Sight? No... That's stupid, but it had something to do with a birds e-"

Six was interrupted suddenly by a loud bullhorn. She looked up, stuffing her face into her bowl with no spoon before standing. With oatmeal all over her face, the child goes to dispose of breakfast she had hardly touched. Natasha blinked, abandoning her bowl and running after Six.

"Wait-" She grabbed Six's shoulder before ant of the guards can apprehend Six. Natasha spun her around, "Where is-"

Natasha was forcefully ripped away from Six, watching two guards drag her through the door. Natasha watched the little swish of the girls light brown hair disappear from view as she was pushed into the wall as punishment. Natasha stared at the doorway, ignoring the swears and insults being thrown at her while other assassins watched silently, too focused on what that child was gonna say. On what Six was gonna say.

* * *

**There's Chapter Five. I personally had a hard time with this, constantly rewriting it over and over again because I wanted Natasha to meet Six in well.. In a way where she's not like a bitch but she's not overly happy to meet her. She saw Six as a nuisance, suddenly giving useful information than a nuisance who was about to give more useful information.**

**And then... that you know. Hopefully the sixth chapter will shed some light.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I only own my idea, though I will admit I do have the Hunger Games to thank for inspiration. I would love to own Captain America, Black widow, Clint, IronMan, Thor and Hulk. But I don't... Unfortunately. I do own the random characters that aren't cannon though! **

**I have only ever watched Agents of Shield, Guardians of the Galaxy and the cartoon version of Avengers Assemble. I get most of my senses on the characters from other fanfics.**

* * *

_'My aching back...' _Clint groaned softly, blinking his eyes to be met with the ever present darkness. He groaned, his arms dangling above his head. The chain dug into his wrists, slowly cutting lacerations into them.

Clint rolled his neck, _'My damn neck too... Ugh, I need a massage. I definitely need to take up that offer from Tony." _

Clint stared straight ahead sighing before he closed his eyes again, _'Relax Clint. SHIELD will know that your missing and get Nat and the other Avengers. They'll send in an extraction team and get you out. Natasha will bust in here any day now, shooting at every living thing with her Widow Bites.' _

This was exactly how Clint spent his days, thinking softly to himself and thinking of his friends. He would think about Thor and his insane love of pop-tarts, how he would break everything just by summoning his dangerous hammer. He thought of Tony, an ever thorn in his side yet reliable Pranking assistant. He would remember the way Tony's arc reactor glowed and how he would just get on everyone's very last nerve. He didn't understand now Natasha could stay undercover working for him. Clint thought of good old Cap, how the poor man was such a beloved man and role model to hundreds of people but the poor man was a kill joy. Clint enjoyed making the man embarrassed in the first few weeks of living in the Tower, making the Cap squirm, it gave him something to bond over with Tony about. Then there was Bruce, the most mellow of them all, the voice of reason when Captain was unavailable and someone as smart as Tony who wasn't Tony. He remembered how sensitive Bruce was to them all and how he was so patient when it came to them trusting him with their secrets. Clint missed him, whether he would go Hulk or not, the man was a trustworthy ally.

And then there was Natasha, Clint would spend a lot of time thinking about his partner. He tried hard to not think about Budapest, but he focused on her red hair, her green eyes, the way when she actually laughs it makes her eyes sparkle just a bit. He smiled spending hours thinking of all the threats she's given him and Tony, except she would always be more lenient and more tolerant with him.

Clint gave a heavy sigh, he missed Natasha. He wondered what she was doing now, most likely reading a book or killing Tony if she was still in the dark. Clint started to swing his legs, bored as he stared down at his yellow jumpsuit. Or what he would suppose is his jumpsuit in the dark.

_'Nat if you could by any chance hear my inner most thoughts get your ass here and let me down, my back is fucking killing me!' _

Clint sighed, "How did I end up in this mess..." He hung his head low.

Clint continued to swing, needing something to do. He sighed, closing his eyes as he remembered how he ended up in this situation. He's been stuck in this tiny hell hole for eight days, all because he wouldn't kill some poor kid.

_Clint was on the cement floor, groaning a bit because he hit his head on the fall. It was this fifteen year old, why there was a fifteen year old Clint didn't know. But the kid had managed to knock him down, the scraggly spiky haired boy. He wasn't much for muscle, but he was fast and swift. He was wearing a blue jumpsuit, the crowd cheering for the kid. _

_Clint quickly rolled out of the way, avoiding a thrown knife, a very dirty and rusty knife. He stood, holding a long knife himself and rushed at the kid, swinging at the kid and leaving a large blood gash on his forearm. The kid was taken off guard by it, leaving Clint open to a sharp kick into his gut. Clint put most of his weight into his heel watching the boy folding in on himself. Clint sighed, wiping the blood out of his face from a nasty cut above his right eye. He was bruised and sweaty, with a few injuries. Clint watched the kid, hooking his leg behind the kids right one and pulled knocking him onto his back. _

_Clint immediately pinned the kid down, knife at his throat on instinct. It wasn't even his habit, it was Nat's, but either way he caught on to it. He blinked confused, like he was snapping out of a trance when the crowd began to roar._

_"END IT END IT END IT!" They chanted, stomping their feet. Clint looked down at the boy, to still see him struggling desperately. Fear was in his eyes. _

_"I'm going to be killed by Hawk-Eye..." He muttered terrified, "I'm going to die.."_

_Clint pushed the kids head against the cement, leaning close and whispering, "Stay down."_

_The assassin was on his feet a second after that moving away from the boy, the crowd booing._

_"KILL HIM! KILL HIM!"_

_"KILL THAT WHORE YOU IDIOT!" Someone shouted._

_"MAKE ME!" Clint shouts, "I DONT KILL PEOPLE WHO HAVENT GIVEN ME A REASON TOO! SO GO FUCK YOURSELVES!" _

_Clint was on his knees the moment he said that, his shock collar releasing a painful electrical burst that felt a lot stronger than the other ones they've given him. He was on his back, trying to pull the collar off of him before the pain became too much and started to blur his perception. _

Clint sighed, shaking his head at the memory. It was a kill match but Clint looked at that boy and couldn't bring himself to do it. As punishment they've place him here, occasionally coming to taunt him with video of that boy dying or eating real, delicious food in front of him. That boy wouldn't hesitate to kill him, but if Clint killed him, where would he draw the line? Where was his boundaries?

Then it occurred to him, _What were the reasons that Nat and him eliminated people? _Yes, they eliminated bad people, people SHIELD worried were too dangerous and a threat to global population. But that kid was probably working for one of the many bad people in the world, killing people. As a SHIELD agent did Clint have a right to kill him, for crimes he did even when it wasn't an order? Or would it just be a crime, and give SHIELD to lock him up for a bit.

Just because he didn't kill Widow didn't mean he could successfully recruit all assassins into joining SHIELD. It was just impossible, but reforming Natasha Romanoff was suppose to be impossible too. No one believed Nat could be good except him, maybe all those people needed just that, someone to believe in them.

_'Priorities Hawk-Eye. Get out first, then tangle with the frustrating inner psychological issues I have about this whole killing Assassins thing.' _Clint sighed, _'Come on Nat, I really need you to save my ass right now!'_

* * *

**_Yes! _Clint and Natasha are in the same boat! They're both... Unfortunately a part of these games. And Clint doesn't know Romanoff is here. So... He's gonna be in for a surprise. **

**Also, WHAT HAPPENED IN BUDAPEST!?**


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: I only own my idea, though I will admit I do have the Hunger Games to thank for inspiration. I would love to own Captain America, Black widow, Clint, IronMan, Thor and Hulk. But I don't... Unfortunately. I do own the random characters that aren't cannon though! **

**I have only ever watched Agents of Shield, Guardians of the Galaxy and the cartoon version of Avengers Assemble. I get most of my senses on the characters from other fanfics.**

* * *

Natasha didn't see Six again until two days later at breakfast. The girl looked like hell, her hair was uneven and a large bruise was forming along her jaw. Her nose was completely blue and purple, the discoloration making Natasha look at her with sympathy. She goes, taking a seat across from the girl though with a school stoic expression.

"You look like hell," Natasha says poking at her oatmeal with the spoon.

Six just laughed, "Thanks. I was going for that when I got up this morning."

"Let's cut the pleasantries for a moment," Natasha says, cutting off the girls good attitude. Six scowled as Natasha leaned in close, "Tell me what you know about Hawk-Eye, Now!"

Six blinked, "What? No congratulations? Nothing? You're cold wom-"

Natasha gripped her by the arm tightly. Six winced, Natasha didn't need to see that she was gripping an arm full of bruises. Six tried to place an uncaring mask over the pain but it was entirely useless. The Russian didn't watch the girls fight, she completely ignored it but she didn't need to to see that Six was in deep pain. So after three minutes Natasha let go, "Everything. Now."

"Ok.." Six was eyeing her cautiously now, "He came in two weeks ago, it's almost three I guess. He just showed up, after he won his first match to get into the Games he's been doing everything he can to get out."

Six took a deep breathe before forcing some oatmeal down her throat. She started again after her look, "He's a yellow right now, there was this kid that he had to kill in a death match, I don't know who, but he refused to kill him in the end. He's being punished for that, today would be his tenth day of punishment."

"What happens in the punishment," Natasha spoke through gritted teeth as she tried to take this all in. Clint was here. He refused to kill someone and was being punished for it.

"No one knows, people here who don't exactly like you both were hoping that he would die down there.." Six blinked, looking at Natasha as the concern for her partner crossed her face.

"I'm sorry," Six says, "He got what was apparently coming for him."

Natasha merely glared at her, "He's not dead, they wouldn't kill him now. If they wanted him dead from the start they wouldn't have-"

"Yes they would. For profit. Do you have any idea what would happen if a person here killed Hawk-Eye? These assholes here would make so much money here and more crime bosses would be coming to watch."

Natasha scowled, realizing that the child was telling the truth. But, more crime bosses may be able to tip SHIELD off about what's going on. She looked at Six, quietly watching the child before speaking.

"What kind of crime bosses come here?"

"All kinds, from illegal arms dealers to crazy people who are willing to kidnap or kill a political representative. Every kind of criminal comes here if they can afford it."

Natasha nods quietly, "A lot of people who would be more than satisfied to see me fight..."

"And die, you are one of the most hated assassins here. Everyone wants to see you die covered in red."

"Doesn't everyone?" Natasha concealed her smirk, having a theoretical plan that just may get her out of here. She glanced down at her oatmeal with disgust before swallowing it. The gears were cranking, if Natasha could find a way to spike the activity going on here without dying, than hopefully SHIELD will notice.

But she would need help, serious help. Hopefully, once Clint got out of his punishment they'd be able to do it together. Her only issue would be keeping Clint out of trouble, and maybe herself as well, they were both pretty stubborn and arrogant when they felt like it.

While Natasha stayed deep in thought, Six was studying her carefully. The red headed Russian was dangerous, but that was good. Six while at risk of dying at her hands was not the only person, and since so far she's been able to get the Russian to trust her, if this all counted as trust, than maybe Six could rely on her and Hawk-Eye in turn. Natasha Romanoff was a pawn, a pawn that any one here would manipulate, including whoever was in charge. Six had a bad feeling that Natasha and Clint were gonna need an ally here to help them.

"You know... If you ever need help, you or Hawk-Eye, you're more than welcome to ask me."

Natasha didn't say anything, deciding to just stay silent. She took a large spoonful of disgusting oatmeal slop and ate it, acting like she didn't hear Six.

* * *

**Muhahaha... I have dark evil plans for Natasha and Clint. **


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: I only own my idea, though I will admit I do have the Hunger Games to thank for inspiration. I would love to own Captain America, Black widow, Clint, IronMan, Thor and Hulk. But I don't... Unfortunately. I do own the random characters that aren't cannon though! **

**I have only ever watched Agents of Shield, Guardians of the Galaxy and the cartoon version of Avengers Assemble. I get most of my senses on the characters from other fanfics.**

* * *

Natasha woke up to the slamming of her door, seeing it slightly creak backwards with a guard standing in the doorway. She pushed herself off the floor with a groan, confused on what time it is. She didn't expect it to be a meal time, so this came as a mild confused shock. Before she could get up on her feet, the guard walked up to her and lifted her figure off the ground.

"What the hell? Let me go!" Natasha drives a fist deep into his gut, resulting in getting a knee driven hard into her ribs.

Natasha is momentarily taken off guard by it, expecting a shock from her collar instead. That was usually what they did to her and anyone else that fought back. But in that lapse, Natasha had her arms twisted painfully behind her back. She heard the clink of cuffs, which held her arms in their painful restricted positions as the guard roughly grabbed her shoulders. He shoved her out of the room, the highlights of the last fight playing on the screens, she hadn't realized she slept through it.

Natasha was taken down the opposite side of the hallway, down a new and unfamiliar path, the walls filled with chipped plaster. She could see mold forming from the very edges, then stretching inward towards the center. She was flanked by about five guards, one of them opening a crisp white metal door while another shoved her through.

It was a large room, with a few chairs bolted down to the floor and against one wall, while a curtain hung on the other side. However the curtain was shoved aside, revealing a small shower cubicle. The entire room was awful, it had mold between the tiled floor, crawling up the wall like insects. She turned, looking over when she heard the door shut. Two of her guards were sitting on the chairs, a third was leaning against the door while the other two stood there with stoic expressions. However the taller of them both couldn't hide the sick evil glint in his eyes.

They walk over, grabbing the collar of her yellow suit and go to yank it over Nat's shoulder. Out of instinct, her eyes wide in shock, Natasha viciously kicked the man in the chest and abdomen repeatedly. With swift, fluid strikes full of power, the man immediately folded in on him self, hunching over. Natasha sent a vertical scissor kick over his spine to send him down and started to wrap her thigh around him in a choke hold.

Natasha watched the man try to pry it off, and he only had success when a painful shock tore through her neck. She was distracted by the pain tearing through her, allowing the man to push his weight against her. The leg she was standing on couldn't bear the weight and she lost all her balance, sending her crashing into the floor. The man slipped out of the death choke her legs had on him while his companion stomped viciously on her side. The others just stayed where they were, not all concerned bye little scene Natasha just had.

Now, with a deep ache in her bones and a sharp pain along her side, Natasha was forced to her feet one again. The taller man, who she had just had in a choke hold had a tight grip on the yellow collar again while his shorter friend held her in his meaty hands tightly. Natasha knees him in the uprights angrily though, resulting in the man collapsing at her feet in pain. The man holding her, slammed her into the wall angrily, forcing her to hit her head. Feeling it bounce off the surface, Natasha blinked before staring into his cold pale green eyes.

"Oh how I would just love to kill you right now. To slowly slice open your skin, with a rusty dull knife, maliciously pouring lemon juice and hot sauce into it, let the pain torture you and make you beg for the sweet mercy of death. But that will not be mercy, the pain will be mercy!"

His hands were at her throat squeezing them tightly for just a moment before he stopped. Tension seemed to leave his shoulders as he yanked her off the wall, "But if I kill you, I'll be the one in that arena."

* * *

In the end, it took four of the five men, three to hold her down. And even then, they were all sporting different sorts of injuries. But, Natasha was stripped of her yellow jumper, standing in nothing but her undergarments. She kept her face impassive acting like this didn't bother her, even though her stomach was knotting up and she felt uneasy under all their looks. One of them stood behind her, gripping her pale shoulders tightly before steering her towards the shower and shoving her through.

In one fluid motion, Natasha had one arm handcuffed to a metal bar in the shower and one arm free. The man watched her with a neutral expression before drawing the curtains. Natasha stared at the white, green speckled curtain tugging at the handcuff when freezing cold water began to pour over her head.

Natasha grit her teeth as the freezing cold water poured over her, numbing her skin almost immediately. She stood there, with no soap, no shampoo, and no conditioner. She was just a mostly naked woman taking a freezing cold shower. But surprisingly, the water felt good, it was definitely an eye opener. Yes it was freezing cold, but she grew up in Russia and was use to the abrasive cold.

Natasha took a deep breathe and closed her eyes as the water poured down her face. She steadied her breathing, turning numb.

* * *

**Yeah, I know this May seem like a pointless chapter. But I want to show you just how low she is to them. I promise, I'll get more fights in, I have so many ideas for fights and stuff. It's just gonna take some time, because I don't want to focus on the Avengers too soon but I also don't want to bore you all if I can help it. I'll do my best, I'm sorry if this was boring. I hope Nat beating them up helped. **

**Also, if you have good Assassin nicknames, or names like SilverTooth feel free to share. **

**I'm sorry if this is a boring chapter.**


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: I only own my idea, though I will admit I do have the Hunger Games to thank for inspiration. I would love to own Captain America, Black widow, Clint, IronMan, Thor and Hulk. But I don't... Unfortunately. I do own the random characters that aren't cannon though! **

**I have only ever watched Agents of Shield, Guardians of the Galaxy and the cartoon version of Avengers Assemble. I get most of my senses on the characters from other fanfics.**

* * *

Natasha groaned silently as she briefly closed her eyes. Her opponent had thrown her to the cement floor and her head ached from the impact.

Her opponent IronBlade was a tall, muscular woman. Natasha suspected that most of the woman's built had come from her addiction and use of steroids, she recognized the signs of withdrawal and the "roid" rage. IronBlade had a short dark brown pixie cut with the fading remains of green hair dye and was wearing a dirty orange jumpsuit that clashed against her olive skin. Natasha didn't expect it to be easy, she assumed that with each win the other got, the more likely they would supply her with her needed drug.

Natasha's green eyes snapped open, rolling out of the way of a thick boot cladded foot. She made a stop on her hands and knees, staring at her opponent right in her dark grey eyes. They had been left without weapons, so Natasha had to rely on her hands though she had no problem with that.

IronBlade gave a frustrated scream and ran at Natasha, the Russian using her opponents size and state against her. As IronBlade sent a fist towards Natasha's jaw, the red head ducked, holding onto the other woman'a wrist. Natasha, knees bent, kicked her opponent in the stomach. IronBlade recoiled, unexpectedly pulling her arm away from Natasha and out of her grip. Natasha slid to her knees, throwing an arm up a second too soon as she was kneed in the face. She was able to block the second strike however and in the midst of it, wrapped her legs around IronBlade's right leg. IronBlade fell unexpectedly, allowing Natasha time to get to her feet and get some distance. IronBlade's bulk made her slower, which left Natasha more time to recover and think.

_'I have to end this' _She thinks quietly, watching IronBlade get to her feet. The woman gave an angry grunt before running at Natasha.

Natasha moved to the side, grabbing one of her arms and twisting it painfully. Natasha heard a painful pop, a sign she had dislocated the shoulder, before moving behind IronBlade. She attempted to pinch a nerve cluster, however she was just a bit to short and couldn't find it under all the muscle. She gave a groan, feeling the heel of IronBlade's foot against her stomach. Natasha took one step back, jaw clenched as IronBlade turned angrily.

Natasha sent a strong uppercut to the woman's jaw, using the fact that one arm was mostly useless to her advantage. But IronBlade had her knees and legs, kicking at Natasha's ribs and kneeling her stomach. It took a lot of willpower for the red head to not get some distance, punching at IronBlade's face, taking quick jabs at her throat.

With one powerful blow to her windpipe, IronBlade stumbled back, kneeling down in instinct to recover. The moment she kneeled down enough, Natasha spun on her heel, kicking IronBlade in the face. The woman fell to the ground, a small trickle of drool and blood dripping down the side of her mouth and onto the floor. Seeing her knocked cold, Natasha relaxed, giving a sigh of relief.

* * *

Clint glanced up at the sound of the door opening. He resisted smiling, knowing full well that today he was finally going to be let down from these chains. But walking over to him, with three large muscular body guards walked was a small lithe female. Clint didn't know her from anywhere, he couldn't even tell what color her eyes or hair were.

"Well, if it isn't our troublemaking Avenger?" She says, Clint could hear the mocking smile in her voice, "Your back must be killing you."

Clint didn't answer, hearing some sort of throaty like laugh from her, "I bet your waiting for someone to come rescue you, aren't you?"

Clint couldn't resist the small smile he would get, thinking of Natasha entering right now. She would either blast these assholes in the back with her widow bites, place a gun against this girls head and threaten her with that soft sultry low voice of hers, the one saved for these occasions. Or maybe, she would use her famous thigh choke hold on her before letting him down, scolding him for getting captured like this.

"Well, I would extinguish that immediately," She opened a laptop, the screen glowing made him squint and turn his head slightly away.

When he was finally able to look at it directly, he saw a video from an earlier fight play. He blinked, his face slowly hardening as he stared at the two woman. He didn't recognize the large, muscular woman but when he saw the pale skinned red haired Russian, his heart stopped.

He stared at Natasha, watching her as the woman attempted to hurt his friend, his partner. Whenever he saw Tasha land a hard punch, he felt a swell of pride but his focus was on her. Her skin looked paler than he remembered, her red hair looked too disheveled and unkept. The yellow jumpsuit clashed horribly with her vibrant red hair but he was relieved to see that her vibrant green eyes looked as determined and strong as ever. Nothing about them changed, he could still see the stubborn, spitfire, Russian in them despite her current state and position.

But, Clint realized, Natasha was entering the same nightmare he was about to. They were in some serious trouble, and he was so focused on Nat that he didn't notice they unchained him until they had his arms restrained with handcuffs, leading him towards the door.

"Don't worry Mr. Barton, you both won't be separated forever," The woman said, a smile in her voice.

* * *

**Thank you DancingAllNight for that review, I was worried people would have mixed emotions about it. **

**Hopefully, once I get past chapter ten it'll be easier. I know what I want, it's just hard to articulate you know? But please, I'm using an Assassin Name Generator, please give me assassin name ideas. **


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: I only own my idea, though I will admit I do have the Hunger Games to thank for inspiration. I would love to own Captain America, Black widow, Clint, IronMan, Thor and Hulk. But I don't... Unfortunately. I do own the random characters that aren't cannon though! **

**I have only ever watched Agents of Shield, Guardians of the Galaxy and the cartoon version of Avengers Assemble. I get most of my senses on the characters from other fanfics.**

* * *

Clint spent two more days in solitude. After his punishment was over Clint was brought to a cell, with no bed and dried blood all over the floor. He wasn't allowed to leave, they brought him his food. It gave him time to recover and actually get ready for when he was brought back into this cruel nightmare.

Clint couldn't stand being here, he couldn't stand listening and watching the screens. He couldn't bring it in him to watch these people die, people who were prisoners like him. He especially hated the idea of Natasha trapped in here as well.

The very thought of Natasha fighting for her life in here gave him a totally different reaction than usual. When he knew Natasha fought for her life, he knew it was because she wasn't going to let the bad guys step all over her. She was fighting with determination, a free spirit fighting alongside him and the Avengers for the greater good. But here, she didn't have her free spirit, she was a shackled prisoner just like everyone. She was fighting to live another day, she had no rights. She was letting the bastards here get the entertainment they wanted. Clint couldn't stand it, the thought of that made him want to break out, made him wish he had a Hulk for just a day inside of him.

On the third day, Clint was dragged out into the arena. The blonde assassin made no protest, in no mood for a shock to the neck. Clint felt a bit better about the match, he didn't feel great but atleast he knew what to expect after the match. Possibly prove ledges to the mess hall for meals, a shower... Clint was smelling like a possum.

* * *

Natasha poked her chili with her spoon. The brown mixture of beans looked as appealing as the oatmeal, but it had some flavor to it. She was sitting alone today, taking a bite of the beans. She struggled to keep her face stoic and not show even the slightest bit of disgust for it.

As she choked down a few more spoonfuls, she glanced up as the TV blared to life. She quickly zoned out, opting to ignore it. Instead she looked at her chili, pretending it was Stark's face that was being stabbed with a spoon. She also thought about Clint, curious and concerned about what had happened to him. Was he still being punished? Or-

_'No... He's not dead Natasha. He's not dead.' _

Natasha forced another spoonful down her throat, the tv screen already faint static to her. But then, just out of the corner of her eye, she sees familiar dirty blonde hair. She directs her attention to the tv, his name seemed to be repeated by the tv.

_Hawk-Eye_

"Clint..." She whispered, her green eyes widening as she turned her full attention to it.

* * *

Clint groaned, kneeled over on the concrete in pain. His jaw was so tense, he was scared it would lock like that. He was hunched over in his hands and knees, trying to catch his breathe as the pain throbbed.

"You little bitch..." He breathed out through clenched teeth.

Standing over him was a tall woman, with an hourglass figure. She stood maybe six feet tall, and wore an orange jumpsuit. But the thing Clint first noticed about her was that she had dark blood red skin and long crab red hair. Her eyes were a dark earthy brown, and she had several piercings along her left ear, all in different shades of red. She was known as Scarlet Shot, due to well... her being completely red.

Clint didn't understand how this woman could be an assassin, assassins were suppose to blend in and be unsuspecting. But this woman stood out like a bee in a swarm of ants, a beetle among grasshoppers. But, Clint soon learned that she was not to be underestimated. At all...

She said something, but Hawk-Eye didn't understand, though he assumed she was insulting him in Czech. He groaned, watching her smirk at him mischievously, finding his pain amusing. She came closer to him, spinning a rusty knife. But just as she got within leg range Clint slid his legs under hers, knocking her off her feet. Scarlet Shot fell in her side, catching herself with her arms.

It gave Clint a chance to stand and maneuver around her to get to the weapons pile. He kept his back to the weapons, eyeing the woman as she growled. Feeling something against the back of his foot, Clint kicked up a gleaming silver knife and caught the handle. Then, they ran at each other, Scarlet horizontally slicing at Clint's chest.

Clint hissed in pain, a red line appearing very fast through the yellow suit. He stabbed her in the thigh and sent a hard uppercut into her jaw. He watched her stumble back, her face filled with pain and rage. Scarlet Shot glared, taking her knife and twirled it once.

It moved so fast Clint didn't see it coming until it was imbedded into his shoulder. He cried out in pain, the yellow quickly becoming stained. He looked at the knife, unsure what to do. He didn't have anything to stop the bleeding and with all the fighting, it would make it bleed more. His best bet was to leave it in. He glanced up though, seeing a flash of red run at him before a hard punch knocked him right in the chin. As he lost his balance, he grabbed the woman's arm and sent a hard punch into her gut. He repeated this five times, trying to make the woman keel over so he could end this. But the Scarlet Shot was resilient, trying to aim another hit at Clint's groin. He was able to block these attacks now, listening to the women shout Czech at him. He could make out a few choice words, but nothing he would willingly repeat.

"Will you just fall down already?" Clint asked kneeing her in the stomach. His knee had more force than his fist, sending the woman kneeling over. Seeing it as his opportunity, he sent a hard strike to the back of her neck. Immediately, the woman collapsed at his feet.

* * *

Natasha watched, seeing red stain not only Clint's suit but her vision. All she could see was red. Red was the color of that bitch who tried to inflict more pain onto Clint. Red was the color of his blood and the sight of his blood, him bleeding, made her worry for his safety. That was a rusty knife, she couldn't help but think of all the infections he could get and all the shots he'll have to get.

_'But atleast he was alive, he's alive and soon we'll find each other. It's ok,'_ She thinks silently, no longer hungry.


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: I only own my idea, though I will admit I do have the Hunger Games to thank for inspiration. I would love to own Captain America, Black widow, Clint, IronMan, Thor and Hulk. But I don't... Unfortunately. I do own the random characters that aren't cannon though! **

**I have only ever watched Agents of Shield, Guardians of the Galaxy and the cartoon version of Avengers Assemble. I get most of my senses on the characters from other fanfics.**

* * *

Entering breakfast the next morning, Clint was too tired to do anything but get his crappy oatmeal and eat it. But, he was brought out of his sleepy stupor by the flash of short, bright red hair. Clint immediately got out of line, ignoring the guards and quickly moved to the woman ten spaces ahead of him.

"Nat!" The woman turned, her green eyes catching his blue ones and he immediately reached out for her. He gently placed his hands on her shoulders while she stared at his face, studying him.

"Clint..." She whispered, staring at where the knife had entered his shoulder. She gently goes to see if he's ok when a guard roughly grabbed her and pulled her back. He had pulled Clint away by his injured shoulder, making the archer hiss in pain.

"Get back in line!"

Clint yanked himself out of the mans grip, ignoring the pain as Natasha just nods. She knew that giving them a hard time was the worst thing to do. Not only because they wouldn't get far with the shock collars but she didn't want to have to only see her partner on a television screen as he fought for his life. Clint scowled, not liking Natasha taking orders so easily, but he knew that this might be their only chance in seeing one another. He watched Nat turn back around and take a metal tray while he was dragged to the end of the line.

* * *

When Clint finally got his oatmeal, he quickly made his way over to Nat and a small girl she was with. A brown eyed eleven year old, with dirty light brown hair and an even filthier lime green jumpsuit. She turned to look at Clint as Natasha turned to look at him. She moved over, the red head making room for Clint.

"Who's this?" Clint asked, taking a seat as he stirred his disgusting breakfast. The girl looked too optimistic, which made him unsettled. What person could be so happy while they're forced to kill and hurt other people?

"Clint, this is Six. Six Hawk-Eye," Natasha says before forcing a spoonful of horrible oatmeal into her mouth.

"Why do they call you Six?" Clint stupidly asked, immediately regretting it when the child gave a very creepy smile. It was like Six had been waiting for someone to ask that for several years. Like it was a story she enjoyed telling people before she killed them, which she probably did.

"Six fingers," The child replied cooly, holding up her hands. Hawk-Eye stared, counting each finger on her hands. Twelve fingers in total.

"That's-freakish," The only thing Clint got in response was a creepy smile that sent goosebumps down his spine. Before Clint could implore more about it though, he sensed Natasha stiffen, he sensed her walls and shields come up as she turned serious.

"What happened Barton?" She asked, forcing her spoon into the gruel with unnecessary force.

"I could ask the same thing to you," Clint smiled, though it quickly vanished when he saw the fierce glare she was giving him.

"I don't know, I was in the safe house, I was about to have a snack and then... I heard something. I go to investigate and see some random dude in another room, but just as I'm about to take him out, he let's out this vapor and-" Clint furrowed his eyebrows in concentration, "I wake up here."

"Same thing almost, I went to look for you, only see an open pickle jar and-" Natasha didn't need to finish, "SHIELD should be looking for us."

"How do you know? What if they think we're just being our normal jackass selves and refuse to use comms."

"Maria threatened me, made me promise to do the check ins."

"Who's Maria?" Six asked, not appreciating that she was left out.

"A friend, none of your concern," Natasha hissed angrily, very impatient.

Clint frowns, watching Natasha carefully. He wouldn't willingly bring it up, but for some reason Natasha was turning cold and bitter. He didn't know how long she had been here, but he could easily see the change in his friend. They had to get out of here or hold out and wait for Tony and the others. Personally, he would rather escape with Tasha, he didn't know how long it would be until their friends came for them. Hopefully, they'd still be alive. He watched her calm down, eating her oatmeal. Clint turned back to his own bowl, scowling deeply into it.

"We need to get out of here," Clint whispered softly, glancing over to the guards to make sure they didn't overhear them.

"I know. But we won't be able to get out of here alone," Natasha whispered, "We can only cause enough attention to this area for SHIELD to get curious."

Clint exhaled through his nose, annoyed. That wasn't soon enough. It meant they would possibly die or kill others before they were rescued.

"Your right..." Clint whispered before looking at Six who smiled innocently at them. She heard every word, which made Clint more uneasy about the child. He couldn't understand how she was so... giddy. Maybe she just finally snapped, she had gone insane and this was how she was coping.

"Aren't I always?"

* * *

**Chapter Eleven. *Sigh* Ok, try to expect fighting in like every other chapter at least. I mean, they don't have fights every day, that's just... There are other people here. I may do a fight featuring Six, or Oc Assassins if you like the latter option. The fights happen between several days, maybe twice at least. **


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer: I only own my idea, though I will admit I do have the Hunger Games to thank for inspiration. I would love to own Captain America, Black widow, Clint, IronMan, Thor and Hulk. But I don't... Unfortunately. I do own the random characters that aren't cannon though! **

**I have only ever watched Agents of Shield, Guardians of the Galaxy and the cartoon version of Avengers Assemble. I get most of my senses on the characters from other fanfics.**

* * *

Natasha stood in the corner of an arena, staring around at her three opponents. Yes, three, Natasha had moved up into one of the "battles".

"_Good Evening Freaks and Bastards," _The figure that Natasha had dubbed as Joker cried in the speakers.

_"Tonight is a Mini Battle Royal, these four contestants shall fight not one, but two contestants! Allow me to introduce are horrific prisoners IronEye!" _

Standing in the opposite corner of Natasha was a tall, well built man with shaggy strawberry blond hair. It was pulled back into a pony tail, showing off his angular chin and sharp cheekbones. He had one dark brown and one eye made completely out of iron. He was wearing a lime green jump suit, and had mid eastern like Caucasian skin. He was about Clint's height.

_"Thunder Scar!" _

Standing in the right corner, was a thin man in a yellow jump suit. He was like a twig, with an electric blue mullet. He had pale Caucasian skin with a large slashing scar going diagonally from the left side of his face to the right side. However, he was exceedingly tall, about two feet over Natasha.

_"The Black Jackal!"_

Standing in the left corner was a short woman with an hourglass figure. She had dark brown hair and even darker hair spun in short little dreads. She wore an orange jumpsuit, which clashed horribly with her skin. Her dark coffee eyes were watching the others, as if considering how to take them out all at once.

_"And the Black Widow! Now fight bitches Fight!"_

Natasha watched as everyone ran towards each other, screaming battle cries while she stood there for a moment. She watched them, watching ThunderScar run at Black Jackal and IronEye came rushing towards her. Immediately, she got into a stance, watching him as he stumbled with each step just a bit. His right side was definitely his blind spot and as he came forward, preparing his left fist. But as his left fist came hurtling towards her, Natasha ducked, sliding to her left as his fist made contact with the walls.

As she straightened, IronEye turned to look at her, glaring at her angrily before swinging his right arm at her face. Natasha quickly caught it by the wrist, twisting it until she heard an audible snap. IronEye's face twisted into that of a look of pain, before he slapped Natasha across the face. Stunned, she blinked at him, quickly kicking his arm before he could punch her again. As she brings her leg down, she catches a fleeting glance of Black Jackal riding on top of Thunder Scar's shoulders as she punches the mans face in. But, she quickly turns her attention back to IronEye as his hand reaches out suddenly.

She didn't know what was worse, that he had grabbed her by her hair or that she didn't see him do it till last minute. He pulled hard, jerking her head to the side with bitter pain racing through her. IronEye held her head still, viciously kneeing her in the stomach repeatedly. In retaliation, Natasha would repeatedly punch him in the face. With each new punch came more blood on Natasha knuckles and with each new knee came a tired grunt.

She winced each time, punching IronEye in the throat when his fade was covered in blood. IronEye let go, gasping for air. It gave Natasha a chance to kick him in the head, but he moved out of the way last minute. As Natasha quickly struggled to fix her balance, falling forward a bit because her body was following the force of the kick, IronEye tackled her to the ground. Natasha felt her chin hit the cement, and her right arm twist behind her back. Natasha scowled, feeling bony knees pressed into the small of her back.

"Not so tough are you Romano-" IronEye didn't get a chance to finish, Natasha used both their weights and flipped him off of her. She rolled, straddling him as she sat on his stomach and restrained his arms. He struggled, his lower face was covered in his blood. Before he could sat anything, her hand was wrapped tightly around his throat and pinching a nerve cluster.

Natasha stood as IronEye faded to unconsciousness, but the moment she took three steps from his body she as jumped. Black Jackal and Natasha both stumbled, but the Russian held her ground. They each grabbed each other's wrists and forearms, pushing against each other in a stalemate. Both woman were a little beaten and worse for wear, but that didn't bother the cheering crowd. Natasha kneed Black Jackal in the lower abdomen, Black Jackal kicked her in the ribs. They only had their legs and feet to fight with. Natasha scowled, her abdomen gave off wails of aching pain, she didn't need to see the bruises to know that they formed.

Black Jackal said something, but she was speaking a language that the Russian didn't know. Then, Natasha felt a sudden impact of pain as Black Jackal slammed her head into the red heads forehead. Natasha briefly closed her eyes on the impact, tearing herself away from the other girl to get some needed distance. But Black Jackal wasn't going to have that, she ran at Natasha, giving her a karate kick to the stomach. The Russian recoiled, a sharp elbow sending a strong blow to her spine. Natasha, luckily, caught herself with her palms. But the weight of the Black jackal sent her collapsing on the ground like a wrestler. She was on her stomach again, Black Jackal twisting her leg at a very unsightly angle that made her want to scream. She heard a hideous pop followed by a burst of pain Black Jackal's hands were around her neck, slowly squeezing. Natasha tried to flip the other off, but she couldn't concentrate through the fresh waves of pain. She felt the girls sharp nails digging into her neck as she struggled to breathe, her vision growing fuzzy. She tried to pry the fingers off, bringing her good leg up to viciously kick Black Jackal in the head.

Natasha underestimated the force of her kick because immediately after her foot connected with the girls head, her fingers fell loose and her weight slid off. Natasha rolled to the side, gasping a bit at the waves of pain from her leg to see she had knocked Black Jackal unconscious. She groaned in pain, closing ear eyes as the sheer volume of cheers and boos engulfed her.


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer: I only own my idea, though I will admit I do have the Hunger Games to thank for inspiration. I would love to own Captain America, Black widow, Clint, IronMan, Thor and Hulk. But I don't... Unfortunately. I do own the random characters that aren't cannon though! **

**I have only ever watched Agents of Shield, Guardians of the Galaxy and the cartoon version of Avengers Assemble. I get most of my senses on the characters from other fanfics.**

* * *

The entire crowd went crazy when her opponents name was announced, but she would have been grateful for even the sound of crickets. Six stood, her lime green suit was practically falling off her shoulders while the taller, larger man towered above her across the arena. They called him Ejderha because of the massive single tattoo that took over his olive european skin.

His entire face was covered in dark, cabbage green scales, the top of his bald head was an even darker green, to represent the spinal scales that were suppose to be protruding from his body. Along his eyes, blue ink accentuated the icy depth of his hazel orbs. His upper body was revealed, his back and arms covered in cabbage green scales. But his lower abdomen and stomach held a light yellowish green tone to represent a dragons underbelly. His hands were accentuated with details of muscle that wasn't there and made to look like claws. Along his spine were more dark green ridges and the designs of folded wings along his back. And rumor was it that his entire body was covered in the green scales. But Six couldn't help but find his orange jumpsuit making him less scary. It completely distracted from his full body tattoo even though the entire crowd was betting on her death.

Yep, this was a kill match. Although Six would be a damn idiot to think she'd let herself go down now, while she had so much to live for. So the girl smiles, watching Ejderha lifted his iron hammer. It had a rather long handle, the metal rectangle that was rusty and no doubt larger than her head. The girl only had an army Swiss knife which was in pretty good condition considering how old it had to be.

Six didn't hear the announcer start the fight, but the moment she saw Ejderha run for the weapons, she snatched up the knife and immediately ran for distance. But the tall, muscular man followed her, swinging his hammer like it was a baseball bat. All it hit was a bit of hair, and as Ejderha worked to recover his balance and set up another swing Six dove in. She stabbed him in the thigh, laughing at the rush of adrenaline she felt as she tore the bloody weapon away. His pants leg soon turned a dark red, a small pool gathering. He swung his hammer quickly at Six's head, but the child dove between his legs and scampered away. She watched the hammer hit his leg and she laughed like a maniac as she saw him in pain. What an idiot!

Ejderha's swore at her, his face tight and filled with anger. But he spoke in some sort of Eastern European language she hadn't learned yet. She just laughed at him, like a hyena. She had discovered the biggest whole in his fighting and it felt like she was reading One Fish Two Fish. This is too easy. Six smiled, blowing a raspberry at him as he tried to run at her. The only problem was that his bleeding leg was useless, and he crumpled to the ground. Six laughed, drawing closer to him and kicking him in the nose. The child laughed, her brown eyes sparkling as she leapt onto his shoulder blades and jumped on his back. She did flips along his back, enjoying herself when she was shoved off.

She looked up, rolling out of the way as the hammer nearly smashed her face in. She gasped, taking deep breathes before standing.

* * *

Sitting in the dining hall, Natasha and Clint sat side by side, watching the tv screen. Natasha rubbed her dislocated knee, she still have bruises along her abdomen and her face. Clint looked even worse, his left eye was swollen and his entire body looked like a bruised blueberry. They watched the screen, watching as Six leapt onto Ejderha's back and punch him in the face. Clint scowled, shivering whenever Six laughed or got this devilish gleam in her brown eyes. It unsettled him, what kid goes around laughing as she murders people?

* * *

Six smiled, leaping off of Ejderha's back, flipping through the air before she landed a few feet away. With his injured leg, Ejderha had no way of chasing her, which meant she could keep going back and forth with no need to fear of him chasing her. She laughed at how easy this was going, she ran back to stab him in the other leg when something suddenly threw her to the side.

She felt herself roll along the cement, coughing and spitting up blood. Six gripped her side, coughing as she felt horrible aching pain along her ribs. She glanced over at Ejderha who spun his hammer laughing. He said something, and while she didn't understand Six had the feeling he was mocking her. Six forced herself to her feet, staring Ejderha down before running at him. He swung his hammer, Six ducking and punching him hard in the stomach. He didn't recoil though, just redirecting the hammer to land on the top of her head. Six moved, the hammer crushing his left foot under it. Six burst into a painful fit of giggles, watching him scream and curse. She moved in, seeing an opening and tackled him. She pushed him from behind, sitting on his back once again as she laughed painfully. She smiled as he swore and screamed, holding the knife. The adrenaline took hold of her and as he struggled to hit her in the face with the helmet, Six held the knife. It was dried with his blood, and she was looking at it casually when she sees him lift the hammer over his head, behind him and towards her. Six immediately jumped off him, watching the hammer fly from his grip and land painfully on his ass.

Six continued to laugh at him, a few feet from his arms when her legs fell out from under her. She gave some sort of screaming laugh, the knife was flung in self defense. Six suddenly stopped laughing as it buried into Ejderha's neck and his whole body went limp. Six scrambled out of his grip and stood, watching his blank eyes as he bleed.

Six suddenly started to cry, realizing just how easy this was. Just how terrible this was and how awful it was that she easily killed a man twice her age and three times her size. She cried, falling to her knees because her side was burning in hot white pain. As two guards reached her, lifting her up into their arms, she gave a guttural scream, crying at the dead man in front of her.

* * *

**Ejderha is Turkish for Dragon :D **

**Lots of Fighting. How do you like Six? She's a bit of a psycho. She's a bit insane and indescribable. I think I'll shed some more light on Six in a future chapter. Yes? No? Will you guys please review?**


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer: I only own my idea, though I will admit I do have the Hunger Games to thank for inspiration. I would love to own Captain America, Black widow, Clint, IronMan, Thor and Hulk. But I don't... Unfortunately. I do own the random characters that aren't cannon though! **

**I have only ever watched Agents of Shield, Guardians of the Galaxy and the cartoon version of Avengers Assemble. I get most of my senses on the characters from other fanfics.**

* * *

"We need her help."

Clint was staring at Natasha, not sure he had heard her correctly. But he knew, by the look of her determined green eyes that she meant it. For the past few days, heck probably weeks, the Black Widow was starting to formulate all these ways in getting out. Unfortunately, they were mostly getting rescued, and it might involved getting their ledgers covered in more blood.

Natasha had put it simply to Clint, they had no way of getting the collars off. If they knew, they'd be working on that along with an escape route. So, Natasha figured that with SHIELD and the Avengers on the look out for them, some sort of unusual activity would need to tip them off. But that was easier said than done, what could possibly attract a bigger crowd than for everyone getting beaten up and killed. The two avengers did great for business, but not much. So many people hated them, it was like they needed to die. And Clint made sure to turn that down if the Widow even brought it up. But one of the things getting in their way is that they didn't know how this place worked. Six, she's been here longer, she has to know some things.

"She's a psycho Nat! Did you not see her in that fight? Laughing as she killed him? And how do we know we can trust her, we don't even know how she got her training or-"

"Your right," Natasha interrupted, eying the guards as they past their table, to make sure they weren't plotting an escape. Once they left, she continued, "Your right Clint. But we need to get out of here, for all we know the Avengers need us. If she's a problem we will take her out."

"Let's see how much she knows first," Clint compromises, "If she has nothing and knows everything about our plans she could use it to get decent food or a bed."

* * *

_Steve didn't understand where he was, it was dark out, with the stars and a full moon over his head. The sky was cloudless, yet it was snowing, pretty hard, and all around him was nothing but a snowy wasteland. He was walking through the snow, he didn't remember or know why, maybe to find shelter. But he kept walking, thats all he did for what felt like hours, it was weird how it was the dark of night yet the moon and the snow glowed, illuminating the way. _

_Steve turned the corner, seeing a little log cabin in the distance. It was covered in snow and the little stereotypical log cabins that make you think of Paul Bunyan. He saw smoke billowing up from the chimney and began to run towards it. His hands held the brass doorknob, fumbling only for a moment to open it before he actually did. He forced the door open, stumbling in after it. _

_The inside of the cabin was not what Steve expected. The ceilings were so high that not even the Hulk could reach them, the Opal paint showing a technique that reminded Steve of the texture of a cloud. The walls were made of platinum, and all along the hallway were columns made of gold and stretched to touch the very top of the ceiling. All there was, was this long hallway with nothing but columns along the walls, the ceiling overhead and the Emerald tiled floor. The Emerald seemed out of place, but Steve didn't question it. _

_For some reason, Steve was sprinting down the hallway, only a few minutes before someone started to scream his name. It was high, it was in a tone he never personally witnessed and held so much fear he didn't know it existed. But he recognized the scream, along with the males shouting. Whenever they stopped, he would see the little bullet or the arrow, out of the corner of his eye, coming from the weirdest directions. Steve ran through them, nonetheless, ignoring the pain. The funniest thing though, was that it could hurt like shit but he wasn't exactly hit with the arrow or bullet. They phased through him like a ghost, so he wasn't bleeding. _

_The farther Steve ran, the louder and more terrifying the screams and shouting were. But now, he couldn't distinguish what they were saying, like they were both speaking backwards Russian. He could only make out his name, Captain, Steve, Rogers, all those names. He shouted that he was coming, the mansion walls turning to cold ugly like stone bricks, the air turned chilly. The floor became a slab of concrete and the ceiling just started to graze his head. He kept running, towards the screams until there was a dead end in front to him with a door. The source of the screaming. _

_Steve, who had been running in his pajamas just a moment ago, was wearing his suit when he crashed through the door. But, the moon turned red, as did the snow and the entire world started to grow dark, illuminated by a blood red glow as before him, limbs twisted worse than a contortionist, the mangled body's limp as dolls. Their mouths were wide open, eyes gorged out and had several, severe stab wounds. He was surprised that they were still bleeding, but they were dead. _

Steve woke up screaming, kicking the blankets and punching the mattress. He screamed, but he wasn't sure if it was just a scream or if he was screaming their names. But when the others came running in, they saw him lying in bed, a terrified expression on his face, covered in cold sweat. He had a stress induced nightmare, but it felt too real.

* * *

**I know that dream may be leading towards more Avenger moments, but I had to put that so people can sort of understand how worried the Avengers are and how bad the stress is. This is the reality for them, their two friends, master killers are missing and could be dead. If people were able to pluck them out of thin air and make them disappear, wouldn't the avengers be stressed and freaked out. Especially Steve, poor Steve. **


	15. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer: I only own my idea, though I will admit I do have the Hunger Games to thank for inspiration. I would love to own Captain America, Black widow, Clint, IronMan, Thor and Hulk. But I don't... Unfortunately. I do own the random characters that aren't cannon though! **

**I have only ever watched Agents of Shield, Guardians of the Galaxy and the cartoon version of Avengers Assemble. I get most of my senses on the characters from other fanfics.**

* * *

Her eyes snapped open the moment the door so much as creaked. The dark figures of the guards descended on her, not giving her time to fight back. Rough, calloused hands tightly held her arms as they dragged her to her feet. Natasha tried to pull away, but it did her no use. The men continued to drag her, leading her right into the arena. Just as they placed her in her cell, one of the guards took out a knife and handed it to Natasha.

The assassin grabbed it, but when they realize that she was prepared to kill them, she got shocked. Looking up from her knees a few minutes later, the guards were gone, the door closed. Natasha turned towards the bars, hearing them slowly rise.

_'Let's just get this over with,' _She silently slips under the gate before all the bars are up.

Standing across from her, stood a woman with skin as pale as her own. She was Natasha's height and body type wearing the lime green scrubs. She had dark blue eyes and long dark hair died to a midnight blue. But the blue was fading, and Natasha could see it was naturally black. In her hand, there was a knife as well, a little old and slightly worn. Natasha glanced at her own knife to inspect it, it was brand new.

She nearly flinched at the screeching static coming from the speakers before the Joker finally spoke. He cackled,_ "Good evening my fellow crooks and arsonists, welcome to tonight's DEATH MATCH! Tonight our contestants are the two ever so beautiful Black Widow and BlackMoon! Better be done placing bets because its time to fight! No one can leave until the other is dead!"_

Natasha stared at BlackMoon, sizing her up. She heard about her once, undercover a couple months ago. She was a paid assassin, killed people on a NewMoon. She gripped her knife as BlackMoon took the first step. The crowd was silent, watching the two woman, expecting any minute for them to be rolling around, covered with blood. Natasha charged, using the woman's hesitation against her. She spun the knife in her hand, veering to the left when BlackMoon raised her knife. Natasha bright up her foot, kicking BlackMoon in the hip, throwing her off balance. As the woman stumbled, Natasha threw a kick to her stomach. It knocked a decent groan out of BlackMoon but the woman also had a grip on Natasha's ankle. The woman twisted, Natasha blocking out the pain as she hit her across the face. BlackMoon's head slowly faced her, having been turned to the side by the impact. She glared at Natasha, kicking out her other leg.

Natasha fell into the cement floor, grabbing the BlackMoon's wrist before she could stab Tasha in the face. The knife was only two inches away from her skin, and it took two arms to keep it there. The BlackMoon was on her knees hunched over Natasha, trying to prey her iron grip off her arm.

"Come on Romanoff, just die already," BlackMoon had a slight British accent, "It's the only haven you have. What could there be that you want to live for?"

"I could ask the same thing about you," Natasha spoke, kicking her feet into BlackMoon's abdomen. As the woman was thrown back, Natasha slipped the woman's knife out of her hand and collected hers from the ground. Finally, Natasha stood, looking down over Black Moon as she got to her feet. Black Moon glares, but seeing the knifes in Natasha's hands, she freeze. Natasha glared back spinning her knifes, running at BlackMoon before the woman had figured out a reasonable plan of attack.

It all happened on instinct, Natasha avoiding a punch to the face, stabbing Black Moon in the upper thigh with the woman's own knife. Black Mood gasped, seeing it all the way in with the hilt sticking out. Her shock gave Natasha the opportunity to kick her in the chest, sending her on the ground. Natasha held a foot on the others chest, looking down at her with the knife poised at her throat. The crowd was shouting, chanting. Black Moon glared at Natasha, not moving. She laid there, looking at Natasha, waiting as the crowd shrieked with second hand blood lust.

She couldn't do this, Natasha looked at her, seeing the woman give up. As she moves the knife away, Black Moon viciously insulted her.

"Coward! Kill me! KILL ME YOU COWARD KILL ME!" Black Moon looked at her, "End this! END THIS!"

"No!" Natasha says, throwing the knife into the crowd, not watching where it lands. Natasha removed her foot, but she didn't get the chance to take two steps before she let out a guttural scream. She fell to her knees grabbing at her neck, the electric shock causing her back to arch. She looked over, hearing BlackMoon scream, loudly as her back arched off the ground. Her body shook before she stopped, leaving Natasha the only one screaming. She held her neck, the pain blocking out all other thoughts.

She didn't realize she fell on her side, she didn't even remember falling. But all she heard was her screaming in pain. She tried to make it stop, tried to get the collar off but she couldn't. Just as her vision started to black out, she saw guards walking over, holding something that looked like night sticks.

* * *

**Sorry for the long wait! Here's the chapter :D**


	16. Chapter 16

**Disclaimer: I only own my idea, though I will admit I do have the Hunger Games to thank for inspiration. I would love to own Captain America, Black widow, Clint, IronMan, Thor and Hulk. But I don't... Unfortunately. I do own the random characters that aren't cannon though! **

**I have only ever watched Agents of Shield, Guardians of the Galaxy and the cartoon version of Avengers Assemble. I get most of my senses on the characters from other fanfics.**

* * *

Natasha woke up chained to a cold, rough wall. Her arms were tired over her head by rusty chains and her feet were restricted by a short chain link connected to the floor. The room was cold, the air was thick and Natasha couldn't see the opposite side of the room it was so dark.

The Russian squirmed, the chains around her wrists were too tight but the chains around her ankles were quite the opposite. Closing her eyes, Natasha slowly rolled her ankles, readjusting her feet in an attempt to slip them out of the chain.

She looked up, squinting as a door opened to her right. She turned her head away from the blinding fluorescent light that was filling the darkness until her eyes adjusted. Standing before her was a scrawny, wiry figure with an angular face, and a tarp covered, metal cart behind him. She watched him, taking in his very casual appearance. Unlike the guards or the audience, he wore a light grey tshirt and worn out jeans. His bleach blond hair was swept over to the left, nearly covering one of his green eyes. He gave a malicious smile as his eyes roamed over Natasha.

"Good afternoon Miss Romanov," He spoke with a cockney accent, which made her noses scrunch up with distaste. She hated cockney accents, ever since Pepper forced her to watch the movie version of My Fair Lady. The man seemed to smile at his discomfort, reaching his hand up to her chin.

Natasha hissed, nearly biting his fingers off. She glares as he brought it back to his side, "Back off."

"So feisty," He says, "Lucky for you though I'm not here to treat myself. I'm here to teach you the importance of consequences. You refused to kill, and while outside of the games that would be thought of as honorable. But we see that as weakness, disobedience. We don't take kindly to disobedience."

"Really? I haven't noticed?" Sarcasm dripped like venom, but the man was still unamused. He reached out grabbing her around the throat and pulled her face closer, his breath smelt of cigarettes and bananas.

"Such a brave spirit, it must have taken years to get so confident while captive," He shoved the back of her head into the wall, holding it there. His words were dull, they lacked emotion, "I intend to destroy it."

"Better than you have tried," Natasha replied, knowing what would come. Knifes, or electrical shocks. Maybe little cigarette burns across her body or the usual beating. Natasha faced it all, even water boarding, there was no way he was gonna break her spirit.

Instead of the sour look Natasha usually received when saying that, the man simply chuckled, "Unfortunately Agent Romanov, I am _the_ best."

* * *

Natasha didn't understand, one moment she's being told that her torturer is supposedly _the_ best and the next minute he injected her with some freaky orange serum. She felt a burning sensation along her limbs, as though her blood was being used for cooking oil. She felt a massive headache crash on her, forcing her to close her eyes for just a moment. But when she opened them, the entire room was pitch black like when she woke up. She couldn't see her torturer who she swore was just in front of her.

Natasha bit her lip, trying to ignore the burning sensation when another needle was plunged into her neck. She hissed, not in pain but in anger, trying to find who did it. She struggled, looking around for even the slightest bit of light to help her. For a moment, she heard the slightly squeak of wheels, heard the clumsy noise made when you put something heavy down. Natasha frowns, thinking about the metal cart she had ignored when the Brit came in, trying to figure out what was under it.

A scream broke her train of thoughts, a somewhat high pitched scream she only heard once before. When Thor accidentally swung his hammer in Clint's off limits zone, sending the archer in the fetal position for hours. She looked around, trying to find the source of the sound.

"Barton?" She tried to find the source, worried for her partner, "Barton answer me you pr-" She started to choke on water, which sort of cut off her sentence.

Her Brit torturer smirk, watching her through his special night vision goggles. He held her face down, into the freezing bucket of ice water, watching her protest. His hand felt her efforts, but because she didn't know it was a bucket, she didn't try to force herself up. The pure beauty of his techniques, numbing and practically blinding them, so they have no idea what's happening, don't know when they're in the water of out of it. Natasha struggled, and as he tore her head out, she coughed, sputtering while screaming her partners name.

The headache she felt earlier, was the serum slowly entering her audio memories and using it against her. Every scream she's ever heard from her loved ones was being played out in a solo concert just for her.

"Barton!" Natasha shouted, breathing heavily. She felt her heart hammering, especially when she realized that she couldn't feel anything. She suddenly flinched, looking around when she heard Tony scream.

"Stark?" Natasha opened her mouth, hearing his screaming even through the water as he head was shoved in. The Brit smiles, looking at Natasha, who under these circumstances, was so vulnerable. Natasha squirmed, worried just a tiny bit for the billionaire. Yes, Tony was a pain in the ass, but Natasha wouldn't wish this on him.

Natasha coughed as her head was dragged out again, listening for feedback. She felt certain that there was some sort of sound system set up, playing the screams. _'But Tony...' _Natasha stopped, for all she knew, they did abduct the billionaire to join the games. Something comedic for them to watch, Tony without his armor, trying to not die. For all she knew the others had joined the games, or been captured. Watching Avengers die by the hands of desperate people would bring in a lot of money during betting.

Natasha took a shaky breath, unsure what is going on. The assassin flinched, hearing another scream. But just as she takes in a deep breath to try and collect herself, she gets water right up her nose.

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**Ok, now if there is any confusion about this let me know. But, I hope it's clear enough to understand. Please feel free to PM me though. **

**Finally, something other than fighting right? :D I hope you all understand why she's unsettled; she can't see, she'a numb, and she hears screaming from the people she cares about. **

**Please Review, I'm sorry if I kept you waiting!**


	17. Chapter 17

**Disclaimer: I only own my idea, though I will admit I do have the Hunger Games to thank for inspiration. I would love to own Captain America, Black widow, Clint, IronMan, Thor and Hulk. But I don't... Unfortunately. I do own the random characters that aren't cannon though! **

**I have only ever watched Agents of Shield, Guardians of the Galaxy and the cartoon version of Avengers Assemble. I get most of my senses on the characters from other fanfics.**

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Clint paced the interior of his corner, waiting impatiently for the bars to rise. He held the dagger in his hand, thinking about Natasha.

Natasha, the red headed assassin had been gone for two days. Clint didn't want to think about what she could be going through, the very thought made his blood boil and his knuckles turn white. He heard several different rumors that she was being electrocuted into submission or that she was being beaten within three inches of her life every two hours. The worst rumor, the one Six told him, described Natasha as a little toy for all the guards on duty in the torture hall. Clint nearly got himself into trouble when he heard that, close to strangling the child. And he would have out of anger, if he hadn't seen the large guard patrolling the cafeteria, eyes on the shock collars.

But he couldn't focus on that, he couldn't worry about Natasha when she was no doubt ok. He had to worry about himself, he had to live. And to live, he needs to kill his opponent.

Clint wasn't stupid, they gave him a knife during his first kill match as well. He was going to have to kill again, Clint was sure they'd make sure of it. Looking at the audience, he felt a surge of disgust and rage fill him, wanting nothing more than to teach the people running this a valuable and painful lesson.

As the bars lifted, Clint took a moment before walking into the arena. Standing across from him, stood a slightly hunched over man about ten years older than him. Looking at him, Clint guessed his nationality was Native American, due to the wooden Cherokee eagle amulet around his neck. He was wearing a yellow jumpsuit just like Clint, his dark brown hair was cut close to the skull except this tall Mohawk. Clint examined his opponents weapon, a small Swiss Army knife in less than excellent condition.

Clint zones out a bit, watching his opponent, recognizing his face from the SHIELD data base. They called him Bloody Bird, because his methods were often... well bloody. It was only when BB started to run at him, did he snap into action.

Clint slides out of the way, watching the knife's path. It had been aimed, to slice downwards from his eyes and across his chest, but because he moved, missed. Clint drew his knee back before it collided with BB's side right hip. He slashes at Clint again, and a thin line of blood slowly dripped from his right cheek. It stung, not as bad as Natasha's widow bites but it still hurt.

"You shall die HawkEye," The man spoke slowly, in a low tone as he advanced closer to Clint. Clint backed up, and with each step he took back, the more smug BB got. BB lunged, but Clint got down low, on his knees, watching as the knife swung horizontally, in the space where his eyes were. Clint stood fast, throwing his weight and speed into Bloody Bird, knocking him down onto the floor. Before Clint can get slashed in the face, he punches the other mans nose in. BB reached up, punching Clint in the throat.

BB smirked, watching Clint cough and threw the archer onto the floor. He leaned over him, on his knees as he held, the blade pressing up against his throat. Clint glared, unable to move his limps much as the Bloody Bird leaned in close to Clint.

"I'm gonna kill you..." He whispered low, looking down at Clint, dark eyes glinting maliciously, "And when your little girlfriend comes for her turn, I'll kill her too, telling her exactly how you died, how you bleed to death, how she failed to protect you, how-"

BB was cut off, and he was suddenly on the ground, paralyzed in pain, it was all a blur, but standing over him was Clint, a dark look in his eyes. His foot rested on BB's neck, slowly pressing down. Somehow during the transition, Clint took hold of BB's knife and had a weapon in each hand now, leaving the Native American with a broken hand.

Clint glared, crouching down very low and pointed both knifes just above his eyes. His tone was steady yet still very threatening, "I'm sick of your gloating. But fortunately for you, you won't suffer,"

Clint stood, removing his foot from BB's body and watched him for a moment. The assassin glared at Clint cursing him out until Clint ended it. Clint turned away, pretending he didn't see the body go limp and the blood stain the left side of the jumpsuit. A hilt was the only thing protruding from where his heart was, and Clint glared at the guards, casually letting them lead him out. He scowled, blocking out the crowds mixture of cheers and boos. Maybe, just maybe he could forgive himself for this if Natasha came out of the hell hole that was her torture cell.

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**Who saw the Trailer for Age of Ultron? Romanoff knows that Thor can only lift his hammer! She's definitely smart! BUT THE SHIELD! The Shield! DUDES THATS IMPOSSIBLE! That-that can't be good! **


	18. Chapter 18

**Disclaimer: I only own my idea, though I will admit I do have the Hunger Games to thank for inspiration. I would love to own Captain America, Black widow, Clint, IronMan, Thor and Hulk. But I don't... Unfortunately. I do own the random characters that aren't cannon though! **

**I have only ever watched Agents of Shield, Guardians of the Galaxy and the cartoon version of Avengers Assemble. I get most of my senses on the characters from other fanfics.**

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When Natasha returned, three days after Clint's fight, Clint was hoping to see her in the lunch hall. Instead, he saw her on tv during breakfast, looking tired and slightly fidgety, as though she saw a ghost. Her knife gleamed silver, looking relatively dark compared to her pale, sun deprived skin. Her hair was a mess, it was clear that she wasn't going allowed to shower until this match was over. That was of course, if she still needed one.

Clint had seen the Black widow kill people numerous times, whether it was in self defense and a casualty of a mission or if it was the mission itself. She was relatively quick about it, which he understood for many reasons. It meant the sooner they were done the sooner they'd go home, if it was drawn out then they risked having people find them in the act, and, this last one a theory, to prevent another face in her nightmares. Clint knew she had them, and adding another pained face as they die cruelly at her hand was not on her agenda. Of course, Clint was speculating.

Clint found it hard to ignore the match, everyone was watching and the volume was relatively loud. The archer ate his horrible excuse of oatmeal, which now featured brown sugar on it. Six said that it's a privilege when you move up, into the neon green class but Clint never recalled seeing Six with brown sugar in her food.

The meal hall had gone silent, the only sounds coming from the tv as Natasha fought her opponent. Clint didn't catch the name, but her tall, blonde opponent seemed to be Italian due to the olive tone of his skin and the accent. The opponent was also wearing neon green, while Tasha still had that horrible yellow. Clint only heard the dull, faraway sounds of limbs hitting limbs, the groans.

Six was focusing her gaze at the tv, the child watched with anticipation, "Go Natasha.. Go... Kill her Natasha!" Six whispered, smiling. She looked over at Clint who glanced up from his food and caught sight of the fight briefly. Natasha had just flipped her opponent from behind her, over her shoulder and was twisting the arm out of it's socket. Natasha wore such a guarded look on her face, hiding how unsteady she was.

Six stopped smiling, seeing Clint return to eating. She watched him, unsure what was wrong with him. Six looked at him, "Whats the matter with you? Natasha watches all of your fights!"

"You don't know Tasha, she wouldn't want me to see this."

Six frowns, sighing but turned back to the fight. Now it was Natasha on the ground, legs and arms restrained, nose bleeding. Her face covered in bruises, the blonde looked worse though, like her face was a bruised blueberry. Natasha head-butted her opponent using that to gain leverage.

Six looked back at Clint, the ex-circus performer, the SHIELD agent and Avenger. He looked so lonely, so homesick. Six felt bad for him, for both him and Nat. Before she comment though, Clint's eyes turned to the tv and Six followed his gaze.

There was a women with the knife between her shoulder blades, the ends of her blonde hair soaked red. Natasha stood over her, green eyes empty of any emotion. She looked tired, she was bruised and had small bleeding cuts. She had blood on her that didn't belong to her. For a moment, just before Clint thought of putting his attention to his food again, he met her green eyes in the tv screen, as though she were really looking straight at him.

Clint shuddered, staring at Natasha, seeing a semblance of something in her he believed he'd never see again. But as quickly as it happened, it ended, leaving Natasha to the hands of the guards and Clint to his food.

* * *

Natasha wanted to do nothing more than throttle everyone, to make them all suffer. But despite her struggling and threats, the guards roughly escorted her from the arena. She expected them to bring her back to her cell, where she can rest and eat breakfast but they had other plans for her. Her guards forcibly dragged her into the shower, to stand under the freezing cold water and "bathe" before getting changed into her new neon green jumper.

And if that wasn't enough, there was a surprise left for her in her cell. Entering her cell, Natasha saw that a flat, worse for wear pillow was left on the floor for her. As the door slammed shut behind her, she slowly walked over to it, looking at it skeptically. She suddenly stiffened, staring at the small fleck of silver sitting on the pillow. Natasha Romanov walked over to the pillow, gently taking the silver piece and examining it quietly. Then with a chilled conclusion, she deduced one things: that it was a silver tooth. And with a shiver of goosebumps, she threw it across the room, before the tooth's owner dared to plaque her thoughts.

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**I'm sorry you all had to wait so long. I truly am. And in case I don't update again soon, Happy Thanksgiving. Happy Black Friday! :D **


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